


Dean Smith Doesn't Kiss Men

by AGreatAndTerribleBeing (PhoenixFoxfire)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean in Denial, Elevators, M/M, Swearing, Trapped In Elevator
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-03
Updated: 2014-09-03
Packaged: 2018-02-15 23:26:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2247342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenixFoxfire/pseuds/AGreatAndTerribleBeing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>prompt of the day - Think of a person you don’t like and describe what you might say if you had to share an elevator ride together. Then describe what happens when the elevator breaks down. For 6 hours.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dean Smith Doesn't Kiss Men

**Author's Note:**

> One of these days I’ll write something that has a plot that isn’t the romance. This is not that day. The events of It’s a Terrible Life never happened in this story, I’m just borrowing the personae of Dean Smith and Sam Wesson. Also I’m pretending that Madison doesn’t exist. For my convenience. I know she’s Sam’s fiance in the episode but I really couldn’t care less.

Dean Smith had just hit the door closed button when he saw Sam Wesson rushing towards the elevator, with a hurried “Wait!”. Dean hurriedly pressed the button again, hoping to avoid an awkward elevator ride with the technician. The dude just...weirded him out. Always managing to be in the same elevator, always coming to help him in his office. It was weird.

Unfortunately, the guy managed to get one foot in the elevator door right as it was about to close. It jolted back the other way, and Sam slipped into the elevator, smiling at Dean, who only just managed not to roll his eyes. He flattened his tie with his hand, focusing on his breathing and ignoring Sam.

Sam would get off first, Dean knew, and even that made him irritated. He shouldn’t know what floor Sam got off at. But the other man seemed to make it a point to ride with Dean every single day.

When Sam’s floor approached, Dean turned to him, determined to say something. 

“Look, whatever you’re selling, I’m not interested. You wanna hook up, go to a bar. I don’t swing that way.” Whatever little voice told him _‘Yes, you do’_ was amplified by the slightly hurt look on Sam’s face. Thank god the guy was about to get off.

And then, of course, it broke down.

At first, Dean didn’t recognize the grinding noise for what it was, but when the elevator stopped, he fought to hold back a groan. Really. Today of all days. Now he’d be stuck in there with Sam, who was still giving him wounded looks.

“Well,” Dean said after a moment. “This is certainly awkward.”

Sam only shoved his hands in his pockets, shifting the bag that was slung over his shoulder. “Yeah. Who’s fault is that?” he muttered, determinedly looking away from Dean.

Dean rolled his eyes, his stance straightening in defense. “Look, I had to say something.”

Sam turned to glare at him. “No, you really didn’t. I’ve never made a move on you.”

“Dude, you get in the elevator with me every day!” Dean replied. 

“Hardly what I call making a move! And it only happens because we’re both punctual.”

Dean paused at that, because that was probably true. Dean arrived at the same time every day, about ten minutes before nine so he could beat the rush of people entering as late as they could. Who’s to say that Sam didn’t? Still. He wasn’t about to back down. “You probably purposefully did that. Figured out when I get here.”

“Right, because it’s not like I have to be here at nine too and I like being early,” Sam replied, voice heavy with sarcasm. “Just give it a rest.”

Dean complied, gripping his briefcase tightly in his hand. A few minutes passed, and he shifted from foot to foot, wishing that the elevator would just start again, dammit.

After a few minutes more, Sam pulled out his phone, muttering about calling the janitor. 

“Gabe?” he said, leaning against the wall. “You know the elevator’s stuck, right?” He must’ve given his assent, because Sam sighed and asked “How long?” Another pause before “Seriously? That’s the answer you have?” And then Dean was pretty sure Gabriel must’ve asked about Dean, because Sam’s eyes shifted over to him and he flushed. “Yes,” he muttered into his phone. “Shut up, Gabe. It’s not funny.”

Great. So the janitor fucking knew. Just peachy.

Sam hung up after another moment with a word of thanks.

“So. You talk about me to the janitor?” Dean asked.

“Fuck off, Dean,” Sam replied irritably. “It’s not your business.”

“Kinda is,” Dean replied hotly, but before he could say more, Sam was interrupting him.

“No, it’s really not. I like you. I find you attractive. I talk about you to my best friend. I’ve never made a move on you, never done anything but ride the elevator with you and fix your computer, which is my job. If I were a woman, you would have no problem.” Sam was glaring at Dean, and the executive swallowed, because Sam was probably right. If it was a good-looking woman, he would probably be flattered. But Sam wasn’t done talking, still looking over at Dean in frustration.

“I don’t know if you’re worried that somehow your masculinity is being challenged, but quit it, Dean. Don’t shove your insecurities onto me.”

“I don’t have insecurities,” Dean protested.

“Then stop being so butthurt that I like to see you in the mornings. You’re not the one acting gay. I am, because I _am_ gay, Dean. No one’s going to assume we’re together or that, god forbid, you like guys.”

Dean shifted uncomfortably, the handle of his briefcase digging into his hand. He remained standing, in some weird conviction that he had more power in this elevator if he didn’t show any weakness like needing to rest. Sam, however, sat down after his little speech, and Dean allowed himself to lean against the wall.

Repetitive checking of his watch told Dean when a few hours had passed, and at some point he sat down to grab his lunch from his briefcase, a salad and a protein shake kept cold in a lunchbox. Afterwards, he stood again, sighing.

Eventually, Sam spoke, and Dean immediately wished he hadn’t. It had been almost six hours, and hopefully they would be getting out soon. Dean had been okay with the silence.

“Bet you’ve never even kissed a guy before,” Sam said.

Dean scowled. “That’s seriously what you’ve been thinking about this whole time? I don’t have to to know I don’t like it,” he replied.

“If you didn’t look at me the way you do sometimes when I get off the elevator, I’d believe you,” Sam replied. “But I think you have doubts. I think you’re unsure and you don’t want to know.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “I don’t look at you any way. You just want to believe that so you can believe this” he gestured between them “is going to happen.”

“Then let me kiss you,” Sam said earnestly. “Just once. And then if you don’t like it, I’ll stop bothering you. No one has to know,” he added quickly, seeing Dean’s look of hesitation. “It’s just us in here.”

Dean looked at Sam dubiously. Dean Smith did not kiss men. But Dean Smith also didn’t back away from a challenge. He didn’t rise to Director of Sales and Marketing by running away. “You won’t tell anyone?”

Sam nodded. “I won’t tell anyone.”

Thinking for another moment, Dean nodded. “Alright.”

Sam licked his lips at that, and Dean was fairly certain that was nervousness in his eyes. He almost thought Sam might back out, which would be great, but then he was standing up, moving forward, crossing the six feet across the elevator until he stood in front of Dean, who had his arms across his chest. Dean watched as Sam swallowed hard, cupping Dean’s cheek in his hand. His other hand curled around Dean’s hip gently, while the exec stood as stiff as ever.

“You have to kiss back,” Sam said softly, and Dean scoffed.

“I know how to play fair,” he replied testily. “I’ll kiss back.” Not because he wanted to, but it was the fair deal, and Dean played fair.

Sam nodded faintly, leaning in. His head tilted down, and he closed his eyes as his lips met Dean’s.

Dean stood passively for a moment before he gave in, moving his lips against Sam’s. Next thing he knew, he was relaxing into it, eyes sliding shut. Sam’s lips were as soft as any woman’s he’d ever kissed, and he could almost forget he was kissing a guy until he found himself wrapping his arms around Sam, palms splaying out on his back. The lean muscle underneath reminded Dean that Sam was short for Samuel and not Samantha. But the little voice he’d shut up earlier was talking again, screaming at him that this was good, Sam was a very good kisser, and his body pressed against Dean’s felt nice and warm and comfortable. 

It was pretty easy to listen to that voice when the rest of him was screaming pleasure instead of the revulsion he’d expected.

Well, fuck it.

Dean made a soft noise as he slid a hand into Sam’s hair, pressing into the kiss. His lips moved more insistently, and he could feel Sam’s surprise, although the other man returned the kiss eagerly. When Dean finally pulled back, it was just barely, and he breathed out shakily against Sam’s lips. Oh. Sam had been right. 

“Don’t think this means anything,” Dean said, his voice rough, and Sam’s hopeful look faded to one of carefully concealed rejection, as if he was trying to play it off like it was no big deal to him. Sam began to untangle himself from Dean, making his way back to the other side of the elevator. He leaned against the wall and stared at the floor. “I figured,” he replied, his voice tinged with the same carefulness that his expression bore. “You’re head of your department. I’m just a technician. I just wanted to prove a point.”

Dean shifted uncomfortably, because that made him feel like shit. Yeah, Sam probably had been just trying to prove a point, but he also had admitted a crush on Dean, so of course if Dean reciprocated he might get his hopes up. He should’ve controlled himself and just told Sam he hadn’t liked the kiss. He couldn’t deny that now, not with how he’d reacted, and it had only furthered whatever hopes Sam had.

Which must’ve been high. The guy looked like a kicked puppy right about now.

Dean didn’t know much about Sam. There was no reason to react any other way than reject him, no obligation. It hadn’t been a part of the deal. The deal was just to see if Dean liked kissing a guy, there was no ‘you have to go out with me if you like it’ clause. But Dean couldn’t help but remember his other encounters with Sam. Sam always knew how to fix his computer or help him with the programs (and for some reason, it was only ever Sam who came to help him. He must volunteer whenever Dean needed help.). The guy was definitely smart, much smarter than his position had led Dean to believe. Not that technicians weren’t smart, but Sam was something else. He did large figures in his head, he knew everything about coding and the software the company used, he had memorized the Dewey Decimal system, which was something Dean had learned in one of their brief conversations.

Smart was pretty sexy.

And he’d seen Sam helping out others, besides. Other people in Dean’s department, the janitor, who was a short guy with a perpetual grin. They seemed to be good friends. And Sam was almost always in a good mood, Dean had observed.

Okay. Maybe he watched Sam a lot more than he’d thought.

It wasn’t like Sam had tried to manipulate him into dating him. He’d wanted his chance, sure, but he wasn’t protesting Dean’s decision. He was sticking with the deal.

And that was making Dean rethink his decision.

He reached out to steady himself as the elevator jolted to life. When he glanced over to Sam, the man looked relieved, an embarrassed blush still painting his cheeks. His floor was the next one, and as the doors opened and Sam rushed out, Dean moved forward, holding the door open. 

“Sam!”

Sam turned back to him, biting on his lower lip. “Yeah?”

Dean paused for just a moment before replying.

“Maybe we can go out for dinner one night?”

A startled look crossed Sam’s face before he smiled, and Dean felt his heart patter a bit faster.

He really had been in denial, hadn’t he?

That wasn’t going to change immediately, he was still freaking out, but Sam deserved a response that was based on how Dean was actually feeling, not his  
coverups. Sam had taken a chance. Dean Smith was all for going fifty-fifty and taking a chance of his own.

“I’m free tomorrow night,” Sam said with a smile, and Dean nodded.

“Awesome. Green Bridge at seven?” Dean asked, naming a nice restaurant downtown.

Sam nodded. “I, uh...I should get to work,” he said.

“Of course. Me too. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Dean replied.

With that, Sam walked off, and Dean turned to catch the next elevator, inhaling deeply.

Apparently, Dean Smith did, in fact, like kissing men.

**Author's Note:**

> Alright! Currently it's only one chapter and rated mature. However, I could be convinced to expand it to a longer work, and it would probably wind up explicit.
> 
> EDIT: I am indeed going to make it multiple chapters. I won't change it to explicit yet because there's not gonna be anything explicit in it for a few chapters. I promise I'm updating soon, I've just been settling in to my new class schedule and work schedule and rehearsal schedule.
> 
> HEAVY EDIT because this is a bit that people are commenting on (positively!) but I feel needs some revising so it's not so longwinded. I said that there is a slim possibility of Destiel and/or Sabriel happening (simultaneously with the Swesson because polyamory is a thing I do), but if they did, they would be tagged as soon as that went into it. I reserve all right to add in whatever ships I want whenever I want because I am not the type to write out the whole story ahead of time so I do now know what's going to happen. I briefly entertained the notion of the ships because I saw an opportunity while I was writing the first chapter, but it's not a set thing. It's not the intention to write in any ships as of right now, but the small possibility is always there.
> 
> TL;DR - It's my story and you're not paying me to write it, and if I want to write other ships in, I can.
> 
> I don't mean to sound rude. I've just seen an author get flak before for not tagging a ship ahead of time (although she hadn't known she as going to write it) and then get berated by several people because she refused to take it out even though she was writing for free, so that makes it her choice. So here's your warning.
> 
> Let me know what you thought!


End file.
